


transitions

by kalypsobean



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bottom Jared, Impact Play, Light BDSM, M/M, Non-Sexual Kink, Sensation Play, Top Jensen Ackles, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:09:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalypsobean/pseuds/kalypsobean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>something's upset jared, and jensen's the only one who can fix it. (set summer/autumn 2008).</p>
            </blockquote>





	transitions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Julieshadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julieshadow/gifts).



Jensen knows the rumours, what they're saying about Jared. When they can't get to Jared they ask him. Their faces are ugly, swollen and red, their dark beady eyes, their voices loud and harsh, and Jensen hates them even more; they were always asking too much, but now it's like they demand Jared's very soul and aren't happy until it pours out on the stage and swirls around the room until they all share it and Jared is somehow less.

Jared's quieter now, almost small; he hunches as he darts from place to place with his head down. Jensen has to snap him out of it sometimes, but when Jared doesn't respond to anything but a sharp slap across his shoulders, Jensen starts getting these _ideas_ , things he hasn't thought about in a very long time.

 

~*~

 

Jensen is very aware that he's the only one who can see the way Jared is deteriorating. All the little symptoms are there, the ones that come before a big meltdown and the weeks of faking it until whatever it is has been replaced by something shiny and distracting. 

It never used to be just Jensen's job alone to notice them, but now he feels like screaming every time someone calls for another take because something wasn't right, every time there's red light that means it takes longer to get home, every time the alarm goes off and Jared gets up to run with the dogs and Jensen wishes for daylight saving just so Jared would at least get another hour's sleep. November, though, feels ages away and in the meantime, Jared's not eating. Jared, somehow, is losing weight and doing all the antisocial things that Jensen normally associates with hermits and himself on a good day. Jared is missing lines and walking into walls and it started at that stupid con when Jensen wasn't there to intervene and now it has snowballed and Jared is a walking snowman of insecurities and candy withdrawal.

 

Jared finally breaks down when they're told to behave for a set visit. The details lose themselves when Jared says in a very calm, even monotone that he isn't up for more fans and more questions and heads to wardrobe. Jensen makes an apology, with some excuse about the tail end of a bug, and goes after him; he starts stripping his costume on the way, because he knows Jared won't do any more scenes today and that means he won't be needed either.

"Jared, go home, walk the mutts, wait for me," he says, as he grabs his street clothes. He glares at Jared, his best mock-serious glare, and Jared goes.

Jensen's kind of proud of that as he gets his phone and wallet from his trailer. It makes him think that he's not totally up the wrong tree, even just in the right forest.

 

~*~

 

Jensen brings Chinese with him when he finally makes his way home, after a detour to replace the things he left in storage. He likes Chinese for this because it's easy - there are all the foods separated into containers so it's easy to both store and identify leftovers, everything is easy to make bite-size or take small portions off, and generally there are no dishes.

He doesn't want Jared to be distracted, just to eat.

 

He holds the bags up when he finds Jared in the living room, watching a blank television. The dogs aren't around, but the faint whines seem to come from behind the doggy fence on the laundry, so Jensen's not concerned about leaving the food on the table and leaving Jared to fend for himself. His mind is elsewhere, anyway, and he doesn't need to feel pressured to have a beer because Jared has to have one; he needs his mind clear, and Jared's done enough to befuddle him.

 

He doesn't even know if Jared remembers the conversation, more of a quick chat and raised eyebrow, that they had when he moved in and Jared saw the cuffs. He's not wrong about Jared's reaction, this he's certain about, but there's always a wariness he gets with a new partner, a heightened awareness and some nerves. It might not be like he imagined, even though he knows how Jared reacts to bruises, to pain, even to direction.

 

"Leftovers in the fridge," Jared says, without even entering. Jensen steels himself, mentally going over his checklist of _shoulders back, chin up, hands open, breathe_ before going out into the corridor. Jared's already in his room, so Jensen counts to three before he follows.

"I don't know what's going on, Jared," he says, noting the way Jared's eyes are blown wide and his breathing's gone shallow. "But I can help you, if you let me."

He tugs on Jared's tee, and Jared somehow gets the hint and takes it off. There are bruises there, fading through purple and yellow, and Jensen can name the day and time each one was made. "It doesn't have to be a sex thing," he says as he points to the bed, "and you can tell me to stop and I will."

Jared's on all fours on the bed and very pliant when Jensen wraps the first cuff around Jared's wrist, and then the other, so that Jared's arms are pulled forward and he has to lie flat for Jensen to cuff his ankles as well. 

"I don't think you will," he says when he's done, quiet and close to Jared's ear. He doesn't say anything else, because he knows Jared will be filling out the reasons in his head like it's a test, and the thing Jared needs most is to stop thinking.

So Jensen puts a blindfold and a gag on the pillow, where Jared can see them. He doesn't intend to use them; they're there to remind Jared what's expected.

Jared shivers, and Jensen takes that as his cue.

 

He starts with a massage ball, small enough to fit in his palm, which he gently presses down as he rolls it across Jared's shoulders, where all the tension is. He can feel the knots even with the ball between his hand and Jared's skin, but he listens for changes in Jared's breathing and the small noises he makes when there's a particularly bad one that needs attention. He wants Jared relaxed and sensitive, though not sleepy, so he switches to the spiky ball and takes particular care to put pressure on some of the more obvious bruises as he works his way downwards.

"Bitch," Jared says, and Jensen stops, the automatic reply still on his tongue. His hand reaches out almost involuntarily, but Jensen stops that too. Jared is clearly relaxed enough.

Jensen gets the flogger instead. It feels light in his hand, probably because it's suede and fairly soft, thin suede at that. Jensen prefers leather, but that's not what Jared needs, at least not tonight. His first strike is a little harder than he consciously intends, and Jared notably does not comment.

Jensen loves this part best; something about the swish and thud sounds, the easy rhythm he gets into once he's assimilated the weight and balance of the flogger into his technique and it's just a flick of his wrist to do it again and again. Jared's skin goes pink, and the bruises show up even more as they take on darker hues, but Jensen's being careful not to leave any welts or lasting marks; this is just to draw Jared out of himself, meant to get Jared to the point where he stops straining to keep still and relaxes into each blow, the point where he's focused and in the moment and that's all.

Jared gets there when there's an even flush from his shoulders to his hips and Jensen's just wondering whether to go harder or pull back; he can do either. He picked up a pair of vampire gloves that he could use just to keep the blood close to the skin, or he could put more force into his strikes now and aim for some marks that Jared could remember this by. Jared's breathing is sharp and ragged; he hasn't screamed yet, though Jensen can see a few marks on the pillow where he thinks Jared might have started to cry. 

"Stop," Jared says, and the decision is taken out of Jensen's hands just like that. Jared's voice is hoarse and as soon as his rhythm is broken, Jared starts to shake, just enough that it's noticeable.

Jensen lays the flogger aside, on the dresser where Jared can't trip over it. He sits on the side of the bed and puts a hand in Jared's hair, twining it between his fingers more as a signal to Jared that he's there and he's heard.

"You need this, you come to me, understand? No more pushing yourself too hard, or getting yourself into accidents."

Jared nods.

"Scene's over," Jensen says, and undoes the wrist cuffs. Jared does his ankles himself and flops back down on his bed, on his side. "I'll stay a bit," Jensen says, and lets Jared hug him, even though he's a little sweaty and he's unwilling to admit that this, right here, is the best feeling ever, the part in between the pureness and simplicity of a scene and the going back out into the world.

He could get used to it again, and Jared needs him.


End file.
